


Do You Mind?

by thedragondidit (humorless_hexagon)



Series: Behind the Scenes [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Cheeky Banter, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff and Humor, Hanzo doesn't know jack shit about pop culture, Hotel Sex, Love at First Sight, M/M, Porn With Plot, space jam is mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-21 03:00:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14907060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humorless_hexagon/pseuds/thedragondidit
Summary: While visiting his brother in Los Angeles, Hanzo gets a drink, gets involved with a handsome cowboy, and somehow ends up trending on Twitter.





	Do You Mind?

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT (7/6/18): For some reason, a couple of paragraphs at the end hadn't been posted, so that has been fixed! Sorry to everyone who dealt with such an abrupt ending!

Hanzo does not like Los Angeles. He has _never_ liked Los Angeles. It was too busy and too hot. Everyone was trying do everything and be everywhere at once- all before anyone else had. Because god forbid someone have the same experiences.

The thing Hanzo hated most about Los Angeles, though, was how easily it had dazzled Genji. As a kid, Hanzo’s little brother had been adamant he was going to be a famous actor who lived in a huge house in L.A. with no less than five personal servants. Genji was drawn like a moth to a flame from the sheer star-power that radiated from the thought of living in Los Angeles. The idea of “making it big,” whatever that meant nowadays. Hanzo mocked his younger brother for his frivolous pursuits

Now, Genji is in his mid-twenties, stars in his eyes dimmed by the harsh light of reality and city living. Still, he’s happy. Hanzo can tell that much from where he sits on the worn couch of Genji’s apartment. Los Angeles has toughened him up- Hanzo thinks. There’s something different in how Genji carries himself. Maybe all the rejections after poor auditions or the years of independence. Whatever it is, Hanzo isn’t quite sure what to think of it.

 

Hanzo _definitely_ isn’t sure what to think of the commercial Genji is showing him, featuring the younger Shimada showering more seductively than anyone should. The scene switches to a couple different young men having equally orgasmic showers, then to a still of a body wash Hanzo has never even heard of.

Genji pauses the TV as soon as his commercial is over. “Not bad huh, Hanzo?” His grin is audible in his words. He rewinds back to the part where his upper body is plastered on the inappropriately large television screen.

“It is embarrassing,” Hanzo grimaces, shielding his face. “Why must you insist on displaying yourself in such an indecent manner?”

“It’s not indecent, it’s _art_.”

Hanzo thinks back to when Genji first called him years ago in tears from a rejection. He has to admit, the kid has come a long way.

“Are you implying you’re an artist now?” Hanzo raises his eyebrows. He’s obligated to teasing his brother, even if he is proud of him.

Genji throws a pillow at Hanzo. “I’ve always been an artist.”

Hanzo thanks his lucky stars that he’s in L.A. just to visit, not console his heartbroken brother. It’s a nice change.

“Speaking of artistry,” Genji starts, jumping gracefully onto the couch and sprawling his legs across his brother’s, “I have been presented an opportunity to schmooze tomorrow night, so you’ll be on your own.” His tone creeps on excited, despite his casual body language.

“What are you not letting on?” Hanzo asks, prodding Genji’s side and prompting him to yelp in undignified surprise.

“It’s nothing.” Genji rolls his eyes. “Well it’s something, but you’ll think it’s stupid.” Hanzo doesn’t even have to ask his brother to explain, as he does so on his own volition. “Ever since I’ve moved here, I haven’t even _seen_ a single celebrity. My friend, Hana- y’know the one with the pretty big YouTube following- she was just walking around and she ran into _Lucio_.”

Hanzo nods, despite having no idea who Genji is talking about. Pop culture isn’t particularly on his radar despite it being so important to Genji.

“And- get this- Lucio was the one who approached _her_! He’s a fan of her Let’s Play videos and invited her and a plus one to some private party with a bunch of famous people-”

“And you are her plus one?”

Genji beams and jumps up from the couch. Hanzo can’t remember the last time he saw his brother so excited about something.

“Sorry, I know we were going to go out for dinner but-”

Hanzo dismisses the apology with a wave of his hand. “It is not an issue. Besides, maybe you can meet someone who can get you a better role than ‘Showering Man #4.’”

Genji pouts and comically rests his hands on his hips. “Excuse you, I was ‘Showering Man #2!’”

Hanzo amicably throws the pillow back into his face.

Genji puts on a show that “Hanzo _have_ to watch this, everyone knows about it,” but they mostly talk with each other instead of actually paying attention. Occasionally, Genji makes Hanzo shut up to watch important scenes or to point out actors that he likes, but Hanzo doesn’t catch most of it. Still, it’s nice, and Hanzo is able to forget about the extravagance of Los Angeles for the night.

 

The next evening, it doesn’t hit him that Genji’s not there to keep him grounded until Hanzo finds himself at a somewhat seedy bar downtown. It’s only somewhat seedy because the floors aren’t too sticky and the speaker quality is decent. The patronage is questionable to say the least- ranging from a group of nervous young women who likely got in with fake IDs, to an impressively muscled biker drowning his sorrows on the opposite end of the bar, to a shady pair in all black hanging towards the back. Hanzo sits alone at the bar, flanked by empty stools. The bartender isn’t talkative and hands him his drink without comment. It’s just how he likes it.

He would much rather be curled up in his hotel room with a book, but Genji made him promise that he would “at least do _something_ fun.” Los Angeles was full of fun things apparently, not that Hanzo was very interested in them. Getting a drink and having a moment of solitary contemplation was just as fun to Hanzo as going to whatever tourist trap Genji would steer him towards.

“This seat taken, darlin’?” A warm southern drawl tickling the shell of his ear shakes Hanzo from his reverie. In the corner of his eye, Hanzo can make out a figure leaning on the bartop to his right. He can just catch the gaudy red plaid of a flannel and the curve of an honest-to-god Stetson.

“No,” he responds sharp and taciturn. In order to avoid looking at his new companion, who was apparently a cowboy, Hanzo takes a deep gulp of his sake.

“Fareeha, one of my usual!” the newcomer calls to the bartender. Hanzo watches as she frowns at him, but obediently pours a glass of whiskey. He intends to go back to thinking about tourist attractions and ridiculing L.A., but something about the cowboy makes Hanzo look twice.

“Aren’t you supposed to be somewhere tonight?” she inquires, sliding the burly man his drink.

He shrugs with an unabashed smile. Everything about him is lax and comfortable. Hanzo doesn’t know whether he detests it or is somewhat jealous. The stranger catches Hanzo’s gaze and winks. “Company’s much better here.” He leans towards Hanzo, concluding his conversation with Fareeha. “Somethin’ on my face, or are ya just enjoyin’ the view, darlin’?”

Hanzo rolls his eyes. He feels light and free, so he speaks with brutal honesty: “Actually…” He points up to the stranger’s face and gestures in lazy circles around it. “You’ve got some hubris all over.”

“Ooh!” The stranger’s eyebrows fly up his forehead, but his face conveys a pleased shock. “We’ve got a sassy one,” he calls to Fareeha, who isn’t particularly interested.

“Serves you right, Jesse,” she retorts unhelpfully before returning to mixing drinks.

Hanzo isn’t entire sure why he said what he did. There is something about the cowboy’s egotism that makes Hanzo want to knock him down a few pegs.

“What did you say your name was, sugar?”

Hanzo rolls his eyes. "I didn't."

"Well that's an awfully unique name," the cowboy- Jesse- says sarcastically.

Hanzo ignores him in favor of staring at the bottom of his empty glass. He raises his hand to get the bartender’s attention, but Jesse beats him to it.

“Fareeha, two Overwatch cocktails, please!” he all but shouts.

Hanzo furrows his eyebrows. “Who said I wanted a… a what cocktail?”

The stranger smirks something dangerous and suggestive and Hanzo can feel his stomach clench. “An Overwatch, its this bar’s specialty. And who said it was for you?”

Externally, Hanzo remains neutral. “Who else would it be for?”  
  
“I could be orderin’ two for myself.”  
  
“That would just be pathetic.”

Jesse bats his eyes and puts on a voice which Hanzo could only manage to describe as “damsel-in-distress-esque.” “Oh!” Cowboy gasps dramatically, holding his hat to his chest, “Won’t you share with me then, to save me from ridicule and liver poisoning?”

Hanzo fights the upward tug at his lips. “I suppose if I must.”  
  
Fareeha slides the drinks over, receiving a “Thank you, kindly” from her friend. She huffs in response and gives Hanzo a pitying stare before returning to the other end of the bar.  
  
Hanzo picks up the concerningly bright blue concoction with a stiff hand. He’s about to take a drink when another glass is clinking against his.  
  
“To not bein’ pathetic,” the cowboy smiles. It’s a warm one, natural and easy-going.

Hanzo pretends that he isn’t staring by taking a sip of his cocktail. It has more of a bite than he was expecting, but it’s not entirely unpleasant. He catches his assailant looking at him in the corner of his eye.

“Hanzo,” he mutters, more into his glass than to the man sitting next to him.  
  
Jesse pauses and gives Hanzo a side-eye. “Pardon?”

He adjusts himself on the stool. “Hanzo, that’s my name.”  
  
As if those words have some special significance, the cowboy absolutely beams, and Hanzo lets himself stare and bask in it.

“I believe it is customary for you to tell me your name in return,” Hanzo mocks, though not unkindly.

Jesse sputters and looks at Hanzo like he’s insane. “Don’tcha know me?” he asks, lips pouting slightly. It would be cute if Hanzo didn’t feel like he was about to be the butt of some cruel joke.

“I am afraid not. Have we met before?” Hanzo can feel his adrenaline high deplete rapidly. This is not how he intended this conversation to go. Albeit, he half expected a fist to connect with his jaw at this point, so things weren’t going too awry.

“Ah, no. Don’t think we have.” The man smiles sheepishly and extends a hand. Hanzo is keen to notice that it’s a slightly hesitant offer. “Jesse McCree,” he says quietly, almost indiscernible in the clamour of the bar.

Hanzo can feel himself relaxing in his stool as he shakes Jesse’s hand. “And you come here often, Jesse McCree?”

“Not as often as I’d like. It’s good to come here and get away from the whole rush of life though, y’know. Sometimes everythin’s movin’ too fast.”

“Yes, I am familiar with that feeling.” Hanzo takes a hearty gulp from his glass again, and nearly manages not to choke. The dry, fruity sting causes him to let out a weak cough.

Jesse, now Jesse McCree, uses it as an opportunity to rest a hand on Hanzo’s back. “You alright there, sugar? Drink too strong for ya?”

“It’s fine. I just didn’t expect it to be so much,” Hanzo frowns. He didn’t like being made a fool of.

“Cocktails not your poison? I’m more of a whiskey fella myself.” Jesse gestures to the glass he had emptied earlier.

Hanzo sniffs. “Sake is my drink of choice.”

McCree nods leisurely. His hand still hasn’t left Hanzo’s back, but it’s warm and comforting, so Hanzo doesn’t reject it. They sit there for a moment in silence, both sipping their respective drinks. Jesse eventually retreats his hand and uses it to prop up his chin.

“What’s your favorite TV show?” he asks out of the blue, eyes alight with curiosity. Although, it could just be a reflection of the dim light fixtures above.

Nevertheless, Hanzo is slightly taken aback. “My favorite…?”

“TV show, y’know. _Game of Thrones_ , _Doctor Who_ , _Rupaul’s Drag Race_ -”

“I don’t really watch television,” Hanzo confesses, running a hand through his hair.

Jesse stares at him like he just admitted to being an alien. “None at all?”

“Not really.”

“What about movies?” Jesse’s eyebrows raise higher on his forehead with each of Hanzo’s admissions.

“The last movie I watched was _Space Jam_ , as per request of my brother.” The honesty makes Hanzo’s cheeks warm. “According to him I’m a somewhat of a ‘pop culture moron.’”

Jesse sighs and relaxes into more of a slouch, “That explains a lot.”

“What?” There’s something secretive to Jesse’s tone that piques Hanzo’s interest.

“N-nevermind... I can’t believe you don’t watch TV. _Everybody_ watches TV,” Jesse says hurriedly. “What do you do instead?”

Hanzo picks up that he is trying to change the subject and complies. “Well, when I’m not working I’m usually at the archery range or reading.”

“Or talking to handsome strangers in relatively okay bars,” Jesse adds with a matter-of-fact tone.

Hanzo smiles slyly, “I don’t tend to make a habit of this.”

“So you think I’m handsome.” Jesse leans closer to Hanzo as if pulled by some imaginary  magnetic force.

“You are not too hard on the eyes, no.” Hanzo’s gaze returns to his drink, intentionally playing coy.

Even with the vague compliment, McCree looks like he won the lottery and scoots closer.

“So you do archery? That’s pretty neat.”

Hanzo raises his eyebrows at the genuine interest in Jesse’s voice. “It isn’t very special.”

“I’ve never met anyone who could archery before, so it’s pretty special to me,” Jesse says. There’s no back-handedness or hidden ill intent in the comment, just awed honesty.

Hanzo glances up from his drink, and the other man’s face is much closer than it was a few seconds ago. Maybe that magnetic force was real, after all.

Hanzo forgoes demure for bluntness. “Do we intend to tiptoe around this all night?”

“‘Round what, sugar?” Jesse looks a little taken aback and recoils from Hanzo an inch or two.

“You’re obviously attracted to me,” Hanzo states with no sign of wavering confidence despite the pounding of nerves in his chest.

Jesse flushes as if he thought he wasn’t being obvious. “Well, I-”

“Before you say something stupid,” Hanzo holds up a lithe finger. “I have a hotel fairly close to here.”

Jesse lets out a pleased, “Oh, wow,” as Hanzo’s hand drifts down to the bartop.

“Am I coming on too strong?”

“No,” Jesse says breathily, regaining his baring. “I just figured it would be a little more difficult than this.”

“I can make it more difficult, if you wish,” Hanzo shrugs. “I assumed you were the impatient type.”

“You assumed correctly.” Jesse’s face is so close Hanzo thinks he might kiss him. But the cowboy whips his head to the side and calls out to the bartender. “Fareeha, I’m closing my tab. Put Hanzo’s drink on mine, too.”

She nods and stalks over, obviously noting the changed attitude between the two men.

“Cash or card?”

Jesse is already slamming a fifty dollar bill on the table and hopping off of his stool. “Cash, as usual. Keep the change.”

Fareeha huffs a laugh. “You’re so charming when you want to be.”

“That’s why your mother likes me so much,” Jesse sing-songs with a tip of his hat. “Take care of yourself.”

“You too. Don’t go too overboard.” She winks at Hanzo, who would feel embarrassed if he wasn’t telling himself that he wouldn’t even be in this state in three days, nevertheless returning to this bar. He was just doing “something fun,” although this probably isn’t what Genji intended.

Jesse takes Hanzo’s arm in his and leads them out of the bar.

“Fareeha’s mom is Ana Amari. _Surely_ you know who she is.”

The name rings a bell- an older, international movie star who, even when allegedly past her prime, had still maintained a public presence. Genji had talked about her being in the TV show they were watching last night.

“I am vaguely familiar, yes.” He’s sure that having met a movie star's daughter is something he should be impressed with, but his lack of familiarity with the relevance of fame makes it difficult to appreciate.

Still, McCree seems satisfied. “Thank god, you’re not completely hopeless.”

They walk in tandem, Jesse’s spurs- his _spurs_ (Hanzo is momentarily convinced the man isn’t real)- jangle faintly with each step. Hanzo consciously tries to step in time and match his pace, but it’s difficult to focus when Jesse keeps prodding him to maintain the conversation.

“I didn’t realize my lack of pop culture knowledge was a turn-off. I would have been better at hiding it had I known.”

The flirtation doesn’t go unnoticed by Jesse, whose hands keep grazing Hanzo’s as they walk. “Honey, the only thing that could turn me off right now is if you put a knife in between my ribs”

“Arrows are more my style.” Just as Hanzo decides Jesse is touching him on purpose, the larger man is on him, dragging him into the shadows of a side-alley.

“Mind if I kiss you?” Jesse asks. His face is so close to Hanzo’s that he can smell the gin on his breath. It’s mixed with something faintly smokey and spicy, but alluring all the same.

“Your breath stinks,” Hanzo smirks.

“That a yes?” Jesse’s tone edges on desperation

Hanzo pauses and purses his lips as if he’s genuinely considering McCree’s question. The hands around Hanzo’s jacket tighten.

Jesse narrows his eye accusatory. “You’re bein’ difficult on purpose. You tease.”

This elicits a laugh from Hanzo. He runs his hands through Jesse’s hair, and pulls him in for a kiss.

It’s sweet. Jesse is much more tentative than Hanzo expected. He keeps his lips just shy of parted and his hands stay stiff on Hanzo’s hips. The kiss too tentative and slow for Hanzo, so he uses his grip on Jesse’s hair to maneuver his head and deepen the kiss, then wriggles his hips so Jesse’s hands are more firmly around him.

“How far is that hotel of of yours?” Jesse’s voice is intimately quiet once they break away.

“It is just the next building over.” Hanzo laughs into Jesse’s neck where he can feel a heated blush qforming.

“Sorry, darlin’, told ya I was impatient.”

Hanzo smiles and presses a peck to Jesse’s cheek. “I think it’s charming.”

Without waiting to hear the other man’s retort, Hanzo begins striding out of the alley to his hotel, hand now interlaced with Jesse’s.

As they make their way through the lobby to Hanzo’s room on the fourth floor, they stay more hands-off than Hanzo had expected. Jesse does manage to momentarily get his lips on Hanzo’s in the elevator, but it is a short-lived glory as an older man covered by merely a towel around his waist gets on at the second floor and steps in between them. The seconds that pass between the ascent from the second to fourth floor feel like hours to Hanzo, who takes the time to control his breathing and straighten out his clothes. Jesse, on the other hand, spends the time making bedroom-eyes at Hanzo and white-knuckling the arm-rail.

The moment the elevator dings at the fourth floor, Hanzo and Jesse lunge out of the contraption. With an almost alarming speed, Hanzo leads them to his room and forcefully inserts his room key into the reader. The light blinks green.

 

Hanzo makes quick work of pinning Jesse against the door as soon as it’s shut behind them and presses kisses up his neck. A pleased rumble vibrates through Jesse’s throat.

“You wanna leave a mark, sugar?” Jesse pants, hands caught between trying to unbutton his shirt and frantically clasp at Hanzo’s hair to stabilize himself.

“Is that a question or a request?” Hanzo looks up with an amused smile. Jesse returns it with half-lidded eyes.

“Just a suggestion.”

Hanzo’s lips curl in a sneer, though it’s not ill-meaning. “And what would you say if I complied with your suggestion?”

Jesse relaxes against the door. Hanzo can make out the whiskey-colored flecks in his eyes as they seem to darken with lust. “‘Reckon I’ll probably have plenty to think about when I’m in the shower the next few days,” Jesse says in a dramatically low, suggestive tone.

Hanzo snorts indelicately at the cheesiness of it all. But, without any further ado, he fixes his mouth to the crook of McCree’s neck.

Jesse takes a second to process, then lolls his head to the side to give Hanzo more room, prompting him to readjust and suck harder on the soft skin there. “Sh-shit,” Jesse curses, one hand now clutching the wall and the other entangled in Hanzo’s hair. “You’re some type’a miracle, y’know that?”

Hanzo hums in response and puts his hands to work unbuttoning the rest of Jesse’s shirt. As soon as Jesse shrugs it off, he cups his hands around Hanzo’s cheeks and pulls him up for a kiss. It lacks the civil pretenses of before, McCree leading with his tongue.

It had been awhile since Hanzo had kissed someone, and he can’t remember it ever being so _hot_ (in both the physical and figurative sense). Where his hand fists around Jesse’s shirt is almost painful with want. Hanzo is sure it can’t possibly get any better, but Jesse (who seems to have a knack for proving him wrong) loops a hand around Hanzo’s leg to draw him impossibly closer. There is a moment of delightful friction and Hanzo has to break the kiss in order to let out an open mouthed gasp.

Jesse chuckles in his ear, voice dropped an octave. It’s less tacky this time, causing Hanzo to shiver from the sonorous hushed words. “You like that, darlin’?” Jesse’s other hand finds purchase underneath Hanzo’s other thigh.

“Jesse McCree if you-”

With only a twinkle in his eye for warning, Jesse hoists Hanzo up. Hanzo proceeds to yelp in a way that he would later describe as undignified and wrap both his arms and legs around his assailant like some sort of confused boa constrictor.

McCree laughs it up, seemingly unphased by Hanzo’s weight, and walks them both to the bed. His hat falls off somewhere along the way, eliciting a small sound of surprise, but he doesn’t stop to pick it back up. He is surprisingly gentle as he rests Hanzo down and pins him to the bed with a knee on either side.  

“This alright?”

“Not quite.” Hanzo picks at Jesse’s rumpled undershirt. “We still have far too much clothing on.”

Jesse frowns as if he hadn’t thought about that before he was straddling Hanzo. “Well, shoot. We’re just gonna have to take care of that, won’t we?”

He slips out of his undershirt in a movement that seems too fluid and quick to even be real. Jesse only gives Hanzo a moment to admire the hair on his chest, his movie-star superhero physique, and the sharp “v” of his hips followed by a tantalizing trail of curls which is cruelly cut off by low-rise jeans.

Jesse shifts his weight off of Hanzo and hops off of the bed to untie Hanzo’s shoes. Attempt to untie Hanzo’s shoes, at least.

The whole scene is ridiculous- Jesse’s sensuality being thwarted by particularly stubborn trainers. Hanzo can’t help but giggle from where he lies on the bed, propped up by his elbows.

“‘S not funny, sugar,” Jesse whines, trying to stifle his own laughter. “How the hell d’you take these bastards off?”

Hanzo pushes the heel of his shoe off with the toe of his other foot, and follows suit with the other until both smack to the floor. Jesse wrinkles his nose in mock disgust.

“What?”

“You don’t just slip them on every day, do ya?”

Hanzo huffs, “Is that a problem?”

“‘Fraid it is.” Jesse shakes his head, looming over Hanzo and leaning towards his face. “I don’t know if I can go through with this.”

“I believe I could find a way to persuade you,” Hanzo suggests. Now it’s his turn to wrap a hand around Jesse’s hair.

“Don’t know,” Jesse exhales. His warm breath tickles and teases at Hanzo’s lips with the spicy scent of before. “Some things just can’t be forgiven.”

Hanzo pulls Jesse forward to close the gap between them once more. He relishes the burn of stubble against his cheeks and the faint taste of alcohol on his tongue. The sensation is so overwhelming, he just barely processes the feeling of Jesse working open the zipper of his jeans. That is, until Jesse is palming him through the thin cotton of his underwear and every nerve in his body goes haywire.

“Jesse!” Hanzo gasps and holds his arms clasped around Jesse’s neck to keep himself from tearing his nails down McCree’s back. “Shit.”

“Ya doin’ okay, sugar?” Jesse stops and looks up for confirmation. Which would be precious if Hanzo’s body wasn’t screaming for _touch_.

“Stellar- just don’t stop,” Hanzo commands. As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Jesse helps Hanzo shimmy out his jeans and begins placing light, tickling kisses up his inner thigh.

Hanzo’s hands tighten around the bed sheets as Jesse’s mouth nears the tent in his briefs. Jesse pulls down Hanzo’s underwear frustratingly slow, causing Hanzo to let out a quiet stream of Japanese curses under his breath.

“That’s cute,” Jesse says breathily, staring at Hanzo in a way that makes him feel like he is the only thing Jesse can see. “You don’t have to hold back for me, y’know. I don’t mind it if your loud.”

Hanzo has a clever retort, he really does, but he opens his mouth at the same moment Jesse ducks his head and licks a warm, wet stripe up Hanzo’s cock. Instead of teasing, his words are replaced with a full-bodied moan.

“See, that wasn’t so bad.” Jesse smirks and repeats the motion with his mouth.

Somewhere in the back of his head, Hanzo decides _fuck it_ and consequently knots his hands in Jesse’s hair instead of the bedsheet, which Jesse seems to have no qualms about. He wastes no time taking the head of Hanzo’s dick in his mouth and sliding down, receiving another approving groan. The slick tightness around his cock sends a shock wave of pleasure through Hanzo’s very core. He can’t figure out how it could even get better until McCree begins bobbing his head in a steady rhythm.

Hanzo’s hands tighten around Jesse’s dark locks. When Jesse moans, Hanzo can feel the vibration from the other man’s mouth and chokes on the noises already escaping his mouth.

The sensation is simultaneously overwhelming and not enough, and Hanzo wants more. He can’t help but buck his hips up into Jesse’s mouth, impressed when the other man doesn’t choke. Still, Jesse pulls off slightly and wraps a hand around Hanzo’s base. Hanzo looks down at the other man and can feel his heartbeat pick up at the sight. Jesse’s jeans are unbuttoned and haphazardly slipped down to expose his length. The hand that isn’t around Hanzo’s cock is steadily pumping his own. The sight causes Hanzo’s hips to stutter again.

“Jesse- shit- I’m close,” Hanzo gasps, cheeks flushed and violently hot.

Jesse slowly slides his lips off of Hanzo in a manner so obscene that Hanzo has to press the back of his hand to his mouth to keep from making any embarrassing sounds.

“Hey now, what’d we say about hidin’?” Jesse asks, leaning back on his calves and returning to straddling Hanzo’s thighs. He holds out a hand to guide Hanzo’s upper body up with him.

Hanzo expects another kiss, but Jesse keeps tugging his hand up to his bruised-red lips. He presses soft kisses to each of Hanzo’s digits. The gesture is sweet, and shouldn’t be hot, but Hanzo finds his other hand wrapping around his neglected dick. Jesse’s spit is still slick on it, sending a shiver down Hanzo’s spine. He looks up to find Jesse watching him enraptured.

“Well if you ain’t just the prettiest goddamn thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on…” Jesse says irreverently. He’s dreamy-eyed and his motions languid as his leans forward and covers Hanzo’s pumping fist with his own. Jesse’s free hand cups Hanzo’s cheek and pulls him in for another kiss.

The first thing Hanzo processes is that it feels like he’s dying. Like some part of his soul is leaving his body and being consumed by one Jesse McCree. The second thing Hanzo processes is that the kiss is a weird, not unpleasant blend of the first, sweet one and the other more fervid ones. It says more than Hanzo can comprehend, yet it just feels right. The third thing Hanzo processes is that he’s coming harder than he can remember ever coming before.

 

Jesse finishes himself off quickly after Hanzo comes, and he breaks the kiss to bury his face in the crook of Hanzo’s neck. They both relax against the bed, slightly out of breath.

“That was somethin’ else, sugar,” Jesse pants, arms still wrapped around Hanzo’s torso.

“It certainly was,” Hanzo agrees. His whole body feels on fire- _alive_ \- for the the first time in ages. “Can you get off of me, though? You are crushing my ribcage.”

Jesse laughs and rolls over to the other side of the bed. “Your pillow-talk is awfully charming.”

Hanzo retaliates by shoving an overstuffed pillow into Jesse’s face. “Talk to that pillow.”

“You wound me!” Jesse sighs dramatically.

In his mind, Hanzo thanks Genji for making him got out, he thanks Hana for being popular, he thanks Lucio (whoever the hell that is) for letting Hana bring a plus one. He thanks whatever brought Jesse his way. From where the scruffy man lies in bed across from him, Hanzo can make out the tiny laugh-lines in the corners of his eyes and the dark shadow of facial hair along his jaw. Hanzo closes his eyes and begins drifting into unconsciousness, but jolts awake when the pressure of the bed slightly alleviates.

Through his half-parted eyelashes, he can make out McCree’s figure looming over him. “Are you leaving?” Hanzo asks, a little surprised by how dejected he sounds.

Jesse ruffles Hanzo’s hair. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I’m just gonna grab a towel to clean us up.”

Hanzo eases back into the bed and listens to Jesse’s footsteps as he pads to the bathroom. The sink runs as he wets a towel, then his footsteps are back. Hanzo expects Jesse to say something or touch him, but he can only pick up the sound of the other man’s breathing and the sensation of being watched.

Hanzo’s eyes flutter open again.

“Enjoying the view?” he teases. Instead of having the expected witty counter, Jesse’s face flushes.

“A little bit, yeah,” he admits as he begins patting Hanzo down with a damp towel. Hanzo lets Jesse clean him up, and drifts off into sleep as the other man lies back down and cuddles into him.

 

Hanzo is awoken by some knocking- no, _pounding_ \- at the door. Someone’s knuckle is rapidly jackhammering at the hotel door with a strength and fury that makes Hanzo feel a little wary.

He would probably be more concerned if Jesse’s large arm wasn’t wrapped securely around his waist and Jesse’s nose wasn’t pressed into the top of his head. Hanzo feels safe and warm in Jesse’s embrace, despite the offender at his door.

It was probably just a maid wanting to come in and clean the room. From where Hanzo is lying down he can just make out the sharp numbers on the alarm clock: 9:37. When the knocking doesn’t stop, Hanzo realizes he is going to actually have to answer the door.

Hanzo begins to sit up and slip out of bed, but Jesse’s arm around his torso tightens and pulls him back down.

“Don’t go just yet, darlin’. Five more minutes,” Jesse drawls, more into the pillow than to Hanzo.

“There is someone at the door,” Hanzo informs him. Nonetheless, he snuggles in closer to the crook of Jesse’s neck and places a gentle kiss there.

“Fuck ‘em.”

“What would I with you, then?” Hanzo taunts, relishing the way he can feel how Jesse’s laugh rumbles through his chest where Hanzo’s head rests on it.

The knocking persists, though it’s not as fervent as before. Jesse’s grip relents. “Fair enough. Go tell ‘em to fuck off, then.”

“Will do.” Hanzo raises his eyebrows, but narrows his eyes, attempting to convey that he was both amused and unimpressed.

Getting out of bed and into something somewhat decent is more of a hassle than Hanzo intends. In addition to half the sheets from the bed, both his and McCree’s clothes are haphazardly strewn around the floor. It takes a whole minute of near crawling on the ground while Jesse makes lewd comments before Hanzo can find his underwear, and he ends up sliding on one of the hotel robes out of desperation to answer the door.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” Jesse yawns from the bed. “Feel free to join me after you’re finished with your solicitor.”

“Join you...in the shower?”

Jesse winks in response, then guffaws as Hanzo wrinkles his nose. He gets up to kiss Hanzo with his bruised lips and the not-uncomfortable scratch of his beard and-

The knocking outside interrupts the moment with an annoying persistence.

“You better go get that,” Jesse smirks before turning around and closing the bathroom door behind him.

“Genji.” Hanzo opens the door as his brother is mid-knock, looking awfully more serious and determined than someone in sweatpants and a shirt proclaiming “Ninjas Do it Better” ought to look. While he wasn’t expecting him, Hanzo isn’t actually surprised to see Genji. Who else would knock at Hanzo’s door for ten minutes?

“What are you doing here?”

Genji pushes past Hanzo, letting himself into the hotel room. He turns and fixes his brother with a grave stare. “Hanzo, you’re trending on Twitter.”

“Wh...What does that even mean?” Hanzo frowns. He doesn’t like social media- from what Genji told him, it was just a bunch of people anonymously bullying each other. “I don’t even use Twitter.”

“No, but pictures of you are on it.” Genji holds up his phone. Sure enough, it’s an image of Jesse and him at the bar last night. Jesse’s head is thrown back in laughter and Hanzo’s hand is carding through his hair. “I didn’t see them until this morning because I was too busy at the party- which was really cool, by the way- but it’s definitely you because those are your stupid piercings.” Genji points to Hanzo’s ear in the picture, then to the laughing man. “And that has to be Jesse McCree because there is no one else on earth who looks that handsome.”

“Why would-”

“There’s more!” Genji scrolls down another photo, taken from a different angle, where Jesse’s hand is on Hanzo’s back and he’s looking at Hanzo like… like…

“He looks like he’s about to fuck you on the spot in this one,” Genji comments, taking his phone back to look at it.

The sound of the shower suddenly starts up from the other room, and Genji’s jaw drops.

“Oh my god is he here right now? Did you two... oh my _god_ you _did.”_

Hanzo massages the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. What did he do to deserve this? “ _Genji_ , please start making sense. Why are there pictures of me on the internet?”

Genji’s eyes widen and his shit-eating grin falls. “You don’t know?” Hanzo shakes his head. At the moment, he feels like he doesn’t know a lot of things. Genji explains, “The man using your shower, who you slept with last night-”

“Genji,” Hanzo sighs, exasperated. This whole ordeal is starting to give him a headache.

“-is none other than Jesse McCree.”

He nods. “That is his name, yes.” Though, Hanzo doesn’t know how Genji would know that. He begins to have the sinking feeling that he just might have spent the night with one of Genji’s friends. The last time _that_ happened had been uncomfortable, to say the least.

“He’s an _actor_ , Hanzo,” Genji groans at his brother’s incompetence and forcefully grabs his shoulders. “A famous actor who’s in movies. _Big_ movies. Like Oscars big. He’s recently been nominated for one for his lead role in _Deadeye_! It was only, like, the biggest movie of the fall.”

Hanzo blinks in confusion.

Again, Genji gapes. “The one about the cowboy who gets caught between his uptight dad and his gang? Really, Hanzo- are you _that_ uncultured? It was all anyone could talk about for weeks.”

All Hanzo can do is shrug noncommittally- he’s still trying to process that he got a blowjob from a famous person. But he finds himself unable to imagine Jesse stalking down the red carpet or schmoozing with other celebrities. He’s just Jesse.

Jesse who was goofy and sweet at the bar. Who was so considerate last night. Who made Hanzo feel like he was someone special with just one look from those whiskey-flecked eyes and that shockingly honest, saccharine smile.

“I can’t believe that in the two years I’ve lived here, I only met my first celebrity last night and you’re here for _three days_ and you get to sleep with a movie star!” Genji shakes his head in disbelief, but his eyes are alight with mischief. “So? When do I get to meet him?”

“No.”

Genji pouts. It still looks the same as when he did it as a kid. “Aw, Hanzo c’mon! I want to meet my brother’s _famous_ boyfriend!”

“I didn’t realize we were movin’ that fast,” McCree suddenly drawls from where he’s leaning against the doorway to the bathroom. He must have gotten out of the shower while they were arguing, Hanzo thinks. “Though, I reckon ‘my boyfriend, Hanzo’ has a nice ring to it.”

Hanzo can feel his face light on fire with flushed embarrassment as Jesse McCree, dressed only in his rumpled jeans and hair still damp and tousled from his shower, strolls over to Genji and extends a hand.

“Genji Shimada.” Genji beams, enthusiastically meeting Jesse’s hand with both of his and grinning ear-to-ear. “I’m a huge fan of your work!”

McCree smiles knowingly- he’s must have done this a hundred times before if he’s as popular as Genji claims. “Jesse McCree. I’m a big fan of your brother.”

Hanzo sputters at this.

“Considering you haven’t gotten kicked out yet, I would say he’s a big fan of you too!”

“Genji, _please_.” Hanzo’s tone changes from bargaining to outright begging. He actually likes Jesse, and wouldn’t mind seeing him again, but Genji is doing what little brothers did best: being embarrassing.

However, he does have his moments: Genji takes a final look back and forth between Hanzo and Jesse, then takes on an air of maturity Hanzo isn’t used to seeing on him.

“Right, right. I’ll leave you two to… whatever it is you’re doing.” Genji winks, prompting Hanzo to groan and Jesse to laugh. “It was nice meeting you Mr. McCree! I hope our paths cross again in the future.”

Jesse side-eyes Hanzo. It's a burning stare- one that Hanzo can feel creep up his legs and poke pinpricks on the back of his neck.

“I reckon they will,” Jesse says casually. Something else edges into his tone, like he’s planning something and can’t help but hint at it. Hanzo can feel his mouth dry up.

“Goodbye, Genji,” Hanzo barely manages to choke out as he closes the door behind his brother. “I’ll call you later.”

As soon as the door is closed, Jesse McCree releases a loud, full-bodied laugh. It’s warm and good-natured, and awfully contagious. Despite his embarrassment, Hanzo allows himself a small chuckle.

“Your brother seems awfully nice.”

“I apologize for his fanaticism.” Hanzo pauses to collect his thoughts. “I did not realize you were such a highly regarded actor. I would not have been so harsh had I known.”

Jesse’s expression falls dramatically. He looks at Hanzo like the other man just kicked a puppy opposed to apologizing.”An’ this is what I was worried about.”

“Did I say something wrong?”

“No, it’s just- agh.” Jesse runs his hands through his still-wet hair. “It’s nice not bein’ treated different y’know? You didn’t recognize me and treated me like you would’ve any other swell-headed L.A. douchebag. I didn’t have to be ‘Jesse McCree the movie star’ or ‘Jesse McCree the Oscar nominee’ or-or whatever. I didn’t have to be so careful because you didn’t know.”

“You still don’t have to be those things,” Hanzo says steadily, even though his heart feels like it’s about to leap out of his chest. “You can just be Jesse McCree.”

“But now you _know_ -”

“I may know, but I do not care. I didn’t tease ‘Jesse McCree the movie star.’ I didn’t kiss ‘Jesse McCree the Oscar nominee.’ I took Jesse McCree back to my hotel. And he made me laugh and smile and...”

“Gave you an amazin’ blowjob.”

“...yes and he ‘gave me an amazing blowjob,’” Hanzo rolls his eyes. “And that’s what I care about.”

Jesse’s grin widens. “My amazing blowjobs?”

Hanzo presses his lips together to try to hold in his laughter, but Jesse looks so smug and endearing, and it’s a little overwhelming.

“I’m trying to be serious.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop. We’re serious now.” Jesse holds his hands up in surrender. He glances up at Hanzo, then back to the ground. “I do like you an awful lot, if that even means anything. In a ‘I’d like to take you out to dinner and see where we go from there’ sort of way.”

“Not in a ‘second amazing blowjob’ sort of way?”

Jesse pouts. “What happened to being serious?”

“You had it coming.” Hanzo steps into Jesse’s space. “I like the sound of dinner.”

Jesse doesn’t seem to mind, but nervously readjusts the hat on his head. “How ‘bout tonight? Is that too soon?”

“You don’t like to do things slowly, do you?”

Jesse shrugs. “Nope, not particularly.” He shifts his weight from heel to heel. “I jus’ wanna spend as much time possible with you before you leave.” He adds on as an afterthought, “You’re jus’ visitin’ right? I figured from the suitcase in the bedroom...”

Hanzo is shocked beyond words. He hadn’t taken Jesse to be so perceptive. “Yes, I am only visiting. I fly back to DC the day after next.”

Jesse whistles. “DC. That’s pretty damn far away”

“I am aware,” Hanzo winces. “If you would rather not pursue a relationship due to the circumstances, I underst-“

Jesse claps a hand over Hanzo’s mouth. “Don’t go gettin’ the wrong idea now. I’ve never clicked with someone so easily before and I _really_ like you.” His hard expression softens into something sheepish. “More than is probably appropriate followin’ a hookup, anyways. I’m willin’ to at least try to make something work.”

“My previous point stands,” Hanzo states smugly.

“Which one?”

Hanzo loops his hands around Jesse’s neck and pulls him close. McCree’s hands slot around Hanzo’s hips almost mechanically- like that’s where they fit. Where they were meant to be. Hanzo chastises himself for conceding to that thought so easily.

“You do not know how to take things ‘slow.’”

Hanzo closes the gap between them and watches as Jesse’s eyes flutter shut before closing his own and melting into the other man.

* * *

“...and after I’m done filming, then I can come visit you. That’ll be- what? Two weeks, maybe?”

“Will you be able to make it? I don’t think you have broken physical contact since we left the restaurant,” Hanzo teases, holding up their entwined hands for reference. “Even then, you were very insistent on kicking me-”

“I was not _kickin_ ’,” Jesse snorts and playfully shoulders Hanzo. “It’s called playin’ footsie. I was tryin’ to be cute.”

“You do not have to try,” Hanzo says softly, shouldering Jesse back.

Hanzo looks intently at the ground, attempting to hide his blush by not making eye-contact with the other man. Jesse is relentless, though, and beams at Hanzo nearly the entire walk back to his hotel.

“I’m gonna miss you an awful lot. Sorry I won’t be able to see you off at the airport, darlin’.” Jesse swings their arms back and forth, still looking intently at Hanzo.

“It’s really alright. I understand that you have responsibilities,” Hanzo replies, entranced by the faux pendulum of their hands. “Besides, if you went, I might not be able to leave.”

Jesse squeezes his hand at that. It feels safe and comforting. Hanzo finds it hard to process how much he trusts Jesse, someone he met yesterday. It feels like he’s known the man an entire lifetime.

“Well this is the hotel.” Hanzo gestures to the building where they had just been the previous morning.

“An’ that’s my ride.” Jesse points out a sleek BMW already waiting in the pick-up loop. Its polished white body contrasts with the dark tinted windows.

Hanzo gapes. “You’re kidding me.”

“Hey, a fella’s gotta ride in style.”

“And you claim you don’t like being a celebrity.”

“Okay, it has _some_ perks,” Jesse concedes, smiling serenely.

Hanzo doesn’t let go of Jesse’s hand, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He keeps looking at Hanzo, which he’s still getting accustomed to. Hanzo is used to being under scrutiny, but when Jesse looks at him, it’s something different. There’s adoration and kindness in those deep brown eyes. He’s committing every detail about Hanzo to memory, not looking to catch when he’d mess up next. It’s a nice different, Hanzo decides.

“I guess this is goodbye, then? For now?” Jesse asks, slipping his free hand into Hanzo’s.

“Just for now.” Hanzo rubs his thumbs across the tops of Jesse’s hands. “But I’ll see you after filming; and you have my number now, so you can text me whenever you are feeling lonely.”

The lights from the surrounding buildings illuminate Jesse’s face in a pale yellow glow. “Promise to call as soon as you can after your flight?”

“Of course.” Hanzo can feel himself being pulled magnetically towards Jesse’s lips, which looked washed out in the light.

“Can I kiss you?” Jesse whispers, suddenly very close. “I really want to kiss you.”

Hanzo hums, “I don’t know… I don’t usually make a habit of kissing men who watch a lot of TV.”

“You’re unbearable, sugar.”

Hanzo pushes up on the balls of his feet to close the distance between them. Jesse lets go of his hands to hold on to his cheeks and pull him in impossibly closer. Hanzo has kissed Jesse a lot within the last forty-eight hours, and he finds himself becoming more familiar with the scratch of Jesse’s beard and his incessant need to hold or touch Hanzo with his hands as well as his mouth.

Jesse’s tongue flicks across Hanzo’s lips just as the _Good the Bad and the Ugly_ theme begins to blare from Jesse’s back pocket.

“Shit, that’s my manager.”

Hanzo rolls his eyes. “You are so ridiculous I cannot believe I slept with you.”

Jesse chuckles and answers the phone: “Yeah, yeah. I know, I know. I’m jus’ saying goodbye to my _boyfriend_ right now.” Jesse winks at Hanzo, who rolls his eyes.

Jesse pulls the phone away from his ear as the person on the other end growls loud enough for Hanzo to hear. “ _When the fuck did you get a boyfriend? Why didn’t you tell me about this? Get in the car right fucking now, you have some explaining to do_.”

Jesse smiles fondly. “Yeah, okay Gabe. Love you too, bye!” He pockets his phone and presses a brief kiss to Hanzo’s forehead. “I should probably go.”

“...does your manager always talk to you like that?”

“Yeah. He likes to act tough but he’s a big softie. He’ll probably send you flowers or something once he figures out your address.”

“That is… unusual.”

Jesse shrugs and goes in for another kiss, but is interrupted by the honk of his car. “Okay, I really have to go now.”

Hanzo pulls up Jesse’s hand and presses his lips against the knuckles. “I’ll see you later, Jesse McCree.”

“Y-yeah,” McCree stammers. His cheeks taking a ruddy hue. “Have a safe flight, Hanzo.”

Hanzo waves Jesse off as he walks up to the BMW and disappears behind tinted windows. As soon as the car is out of sight, Hanzo’s phone vibrates in his pocket. Unsurprisingly, it’s from Jesse.

JESSE: miss you already baby(Crying Face )(Two Hearts )(Tired Face )(Kiss Mark )(Sparkling Heart )

HANZO: The emoticons are unnecessary.

JESSE:(Face Screaming In Fear )(Face With Look Of Triumph )(Thumbs Down Sign ≊ Thumbs Down)

Even as Hanzo snorts at the obnoxious emojis, he can’t help but feel a little giddy. He has to repress the insane looking grin and the spring in his step as he walks up to his hotel room.

As he waits in the elevator, he can’t help but lean against the wall and sigh. He could get used to this weirdly light and bubbly feeling. It sticks with him all through the night, as he packs his suitcase for an early flight. It still tugs at his chest as Genji waves him off at the airport. It doesn’t even fade as the plane is taking off and the city grows smaller and smaller beneath him.

Because- as much as Hanzo hates hotels, and planes, and Los freaking Angeles- the promise of Jesse being there makes it easy to hate it all a little less.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading my first attempt at a sexy thing! Your kudos and comments mean the world to me~

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[PODFIC] Do You Mind?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15294480) by [sksNinja](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sksNinja/pseuds/sksNinja)




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